


Cherry Bomb Lips

by Kicker



Series: Pre-War Shenanigans [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, OC Crossover, OC Kiss Week, Pre-War, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 07:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8004280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kicker/pseuds/Kicker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What does it take to make a new lawyer? </p>
<p>It's not a trick question, or a joke. The answer's Law School. </p>
<p>In 2073, Laila and Mina are attending such an establishment and in Boston, no less. They're firm friends, classmates and roommates both. They work hard, they party hard, and there might just be another activity about to join that list.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherry Bomb Lips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Metamorphiac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metamorphiac/gifts).



> this is a little piece for OC kiss week, except at least a week late because you know. temperamental muses, defective tumblr ask boxes, etc.
> 
> Laila belongs to [ChrysalisShell](http://archiveofourown.org/users/chrysalisshell) (same on [tumblr](http://chrysalisshell.tumblr.com/))
> 
> you may recognise Mina from such pieces as [Twelve Bobby Pins](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6926119) and [Unpinned](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7781152).
> 
> this is another amazing OC prompt that has turned into canon backstory for one of my Sole Survivors. I love this SO MUCH. this individual piece and the whole expanding pre-war universe. more pls. [let me know if you have any ideas.](http://kickerwrites.tumblr.com/)

The holotape deck in the corner of the common room is ancient and creaky and definitely not suited to playing music at this volume. The backing track whirls and judders, it speeds up and slows down seemingly at random, and the singer wails out over the top of it in no less distorted a fashion. Even so, it's still not loud enough to drown out a series of slamming crashes that have been coming from upstairs for the last half hour. Whatever's going on up there, it seems far more interesting than what's happening where Mina is.

She kicks the cabinet, returns to the couch and throws herself back down on it.

"This party sucks," she says.

"Give it a chance," says Laila. "It hasn't even started yet."

Mina sighs and rolls her eyes. "Exactly. We've been here ages and nothing has happened. At all."

"It's cool," says Laila. "Maybe the punch hasn't kicked in yet."

Mina remembers her cup, left on the floor when she'd gone to scowl at the holotape. She picks it up, swirls the contents and stares glumly into the brightly-colored liquid. "I think they forgot to put the alcohol in mine."

Laila elbows her and grins. "I added some extra, don't worry."

"Excellent," says Mina, knocking back the drink in a few gulps. "Recklessness incoming."

She leans back on the couch, pulling her knee up to her chest, and surveys the room. It's the usual crowd for this sort of party, still tanned from spring break and trying desperately to show that off before it fades, it being difficult to maintain a tan under the fluorescent lights of the library once all the deadlines and exams start to loom a bit closer. Even Mina's wearing a pair of shorts, and that had been enough to make Laila's eyebrows rise.

_Why are you wearing shorts?_

_Because it's hot?_

_It's so not hot._

_It's hot for here, okay? I can hardly breathe. Why does everyone have to smoke inside, anyway?_

Half the girls in the room are wearing shorts, in fact, if they aren't wearing garishly-patterned sundresses. A couple are pretty, and one in the corner has bright red hair that keeps catching her eye, but none of them are particularly interesting, not to Mina. She tries to follow Laila's gaze as it tracks around the room. It seems to settle on a big guy in the corner, sunglasses hanging from the neck of his shirt. Collar popped, of course.

Sure enough, Laila points him out. "I'm going to kiss him," she says.

"Ew," says Mina. "That guy? He just spilled beer on a girl's dress and laughed at her."

"Jeez, Mina", she replied. "I'm just gonna kiss him, not marry him? What about you, anyway? You're normally first out there with your tongue down someone's throat."

Mina shrugs. "Not feeling the crowd," she says.

"There must be someone."

Mina looks around the room again, but it hasn't changed, no newcomers to appraise and maybe to brighten up the evening. But now the liquor has brought a warmth to her stomach and started to loosen her tongue a little.

"Nah," she says. "I'd rather kiss you than any of these assholes."

Her stomach flips as she suddenly realizes what she's just said.

_Well done, Mina._ _That's just your roommate you've just said that to. That's not going to be awkward, when she tells you to fuck off._

But Mina doesn't let anyone get away with that kind of talk, least of all herself.

_I did say I was going to get reckless._ _And it's not so bad. If it goes to shit, I can request a transfer to another room. Another dorm. Another university, maybe._

Having quietened down that inner dialogue, she plucks up the courage to turn around and look at Laila. She braces herself for those perfect eyebrows to be raised in confusion, or shock, or worse. She didn't need to, it seems. There is an eyebrow raised, true, but it's accompanied by a half-smile and something approaching a twinkle in her eyes.

And Mina knows she's not the only one who gets reckless after a couple of strong drinks.

"What?" asks Laila.

"You heard me," says Mina, as casually as she can manage. "I mean, I actually like you. So you're ahead of them already."

"Wouldn't that be weird?" asks Laila. "Back at ours, I mean."

"No more than having to see you prancing around naked all the time."

"I've seen you naked too, come on."

"Okay, says Mina. "How about, no more weird than you jerking off with me lying right there trying to sleep."

Laila's mouth falls open, and she lets out an indignant exclamation. "Shut up," she says. "I told you I was asleep, I didn't know I was..."

Mina starts to laugh, and holds her finger to her lips. "Shhh," she says. "You didn't want me to tell anyone about that, don't shout it out in a room full of people."

"I didn't want you to ever _mention_ that again," hisses Laila. She folds her arms and stares out into the room.

Mina tries not to laugh. "Sorry," she says, but there's no reply.

She sits forward and touches Laila's shoulder, but it's pulled away with an indignant huff. So she strokes her fingers through Laila's hair, instead. It's long and blonde and perfectly straight, and Mina knows exactly how much effort goes into it keeping it that way.

"You have such pretty hair," she says.

There's still no reply, but Laila doesn't pull away this time. Flattery will get you everywhere, in the end. Mina waits for a moment then picks up a lock of it, separating it from the rest and twisting it between her fingers. She pulls it into three and starts to plait it.

She drops it when Laila turns round to look at her again.

"So do you," she says. "You should grow it out."

"Nah," says Mina. "It just seems like so much effort. Having to brush it all the time, and wash it, and try to keep it out of the way." She scrubs her fingers through her hair, pulling a handful out sideways so she can almost see the ends of it. "Look at it, it has a mind of its own."

"It's easy enough," says Laila. "You just need some bobby pins. And a ton of hairspray."

Mina pretends to gag. "No hairspray, please. I feel stiffer just thinking about it." She snorts with laughter. "And that's a joke that'd work way better if I were a guy."

"You can kinda get high off the fumes, so, you know. Why do you think most pageant girls agree to it at all?"

"Pageant moms telling them to?"

Laila turns away, a little abruptly, and Mina gets the feeling she's said something wrong. Again. But not knowing how to fix it, she picks up the unfinished plait, unwinds it and starts again, counting the twists as she goes. Six to her ear, twelve to her chin, and then Laila turns around and makes her drop it again.

"Did you... uh. Did you mean it? About the kissing?"

Mina's heart leaps again, into her throat this time. She swallows it down.

"Yeah," she says, casually, hopefully more so than last time but now the liquor is really giving her a buzz so she suspects that might not be the case.

"Here? Now?"

She's just about to say _God, yes, please_ , but from the corner of her eye she sees or thinks she sees faces turning toward them.

So she says no.

Laila's face drops. "Oh. What?"

Half-pleased by the obvious disappointment, but not sure how to face it either, Mina starts to babble. "I mean not here. In here, specifically. I mean, there's all these people and we're roommates and people will talk and..."

"Fuck it," says Laila. "Let's give 'em a show."

_I don't want to be a show_.

_Not yet, anyway._

After a few minutes of people-watching, and a few more of imagining how the exchange could have gone better - mostly the part where imaginary-Laila ends up pinning her to the couch and kissing her face off, Mina deciding that would be a not unacceptable show to give - she excuses herself to go to the bathroom.

Inside, she leans back against the door, resting her head on it to look up at the ceiling. She asks herself, _what the fuck are you doing? Propositioning your roommate? Then turning her down when she's obviously interested?_

_Get back out there, you dumbass._

By the time she gets back, Laila is up and dancing with the asshole with the popped collar, and he's staring at her tits like he's never seen a pair of them before. Walking up doesn't get her attention, neither does waving at her, so she grabs her elbow.

"Laila," she says. "Laila. Come with me. I need a drink."

Laila pulls her elbow away, widening her eyes and giving that slight tilt of the head that says _I'm busy right now, thank you_.

Mina ignores it.

"Can't you get it yourself?" says Laila, impatiently.

"Nope," says Mina, grabbing her arm. "Come on."

There are some rolled eyes, and another indignant huff, but Laila allows Mina to drag her away from the guy with barely a backward glance.

The kitchen table is covered with cans and bottles, all arranged untidily around the giant plastic tub of punch. Laila heads straight over to it, pulling her hair back with her hands as she leans over and sniffs at it. "Yeah," she says. "There is definitely more liquor in here now. This party is going to liven up soon."

Mina closes the door behind her, and leans against it. She lets herself look at her friend, her roommate, top to bottom, from the bright hair that spills over her shoulders, to the narrow waist she probably couldn't put her hands right around but she knows for sure she'd like to try, all the way down the long legs clad in tight denim.

"Come here," she says, and holds out her hand.

Laila turns, already holding a stack of plastic cups, prying one from the top. In response to her questioning look, Mina lifts her chin, _I said come here,_ and that's another thing that's understood implicitly because Laila drops the cups on the table immediately. They topple over, roll onto the floor and away over the tiles but Mina doesn't follow them with her eyes to see where they end up because Laila is crossing the floor toward her, a smile spreading over her face.

She stops in front of her, giving Mina a moment to stare at those lips, red as the label on a bottle of Nuka-Cherry, drawn into a pout almost as round as the cap on it.

"No show, then?" she asks.

"Not the first one," says Mina, and twines their fingers together.

Her lips are as soft as Mina had imagined them to be, and sweet with the flavor of the punch or whatever it is she uses to make them so red. The kiss isn't soft, it's strong, and it's no less sweet for that but what it is more than anything else is _explosive_. She feels a surge of excitement in her chest that says _yes, this is right, this is good_ and in a second she's sure that this is definitely what they both want.

She opens her eyes to make sure she's not imagining it. And it is Laila there, too close to see her lips pressed against her own but she feels them, of course, just like she feels the hand on the back of her neck, pushing up into her hair. She rests her own free hand on Laila's hip, her fingers just stroking along the strip of bare skin between pants and shirt.

Laila breaks away for a breath, her eyes roving over Mina's face. "You look cute with my lipstick on," she says, and reaches up with her thumb to wipe away what must be a smudge from Mina's lower lip. "You should wear it more often."

"Only if you put it on for me," says Mina, with a grin.

"That's exactly what I was thinking."

Behind them, the door shakes and the handle rattles.

Laila gives one more brief kiss before pulling back to a more respectable distance, letting go of her hand at the last possible moment. On her face is a smile, and Mina knows exactly what that smile means because she's wearing the same one.

_I'm not done with you yet,_ is what it says.

The door bursts open to reveal a group of partygoers with armfuls of beer and liquor. They curse at the already-packed table, then at the lack of plastic cups, and start pulling open cupboards and doors to find glassware. From the open door comes the sound of raucous laughter and a rising level of chatter.

Mina steps backward away from the door, until she bumps into Laila.

"I told you," says Laila, leaning her chin over Mina's shoulder, speaking softly into her ear. "Party's finally getting started."

Mina looks to her side, into the blue eyes that twinkle at her, and at the red lips she knows she's going to be kissing again before the night is through.

"Certainly is," she says.


End file.
